


Offerings for a God

by bigwolfpup



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Body Worship, God(dess) of Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Character Death, Thighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25236784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigwolfpup/pseuds/bigwolfpup
Summary: Clint has been leaving offerings for the god of death for years. Now he comes face to face with said god, shocked more than anything before he realizes how much he actually likes worshiping this god.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 6
Kudos: 74
Collections: Clintucky Fried Bunnies





	Offerings for a God

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired by artwork from magenta-llama.](https://magenta-llama-art.tumblr.com/post/622511513104711680/the-happiest-of-birthdays-greyishbobbi)

Nobody ever told Clint that when you visited a temple for a god, that typically, you don’t find said god standing there looking surprised that someone dared to set foot in their temple. No one ever told Clint what to do if you  _ did  _ happen to find the god in their own temple chilling out and eating the offerings given to them, and certainly not a single person ever told him how rude it was to stare down a god. To be fair though, most of those things were common sense, no one had actually ever seen a god in their own temple, so no one really knew what to do in that type of situation. It just never happened.

But of course the normal never happened to Clint. He was always stuck with bad luck and clumsiness that was almost certainly caused by the gods. He was one-hundred percent sure that the gods hated him, and that was why he was stuck with a shitty father who drank and beat the shit out of him, his brother, and his mother. That was why his father had the sudden need to drink heavily, then proceed to kill both himself and Clint’s mother. Clint was sure, after all that his younger self had to go through, that the gods hated his guts and wanted him dead just like his parents. It was why he had been trying to appease the god of death ever since he was barely ten years old, stealing food to get buy while his brother looked for work around town.

So, there Clint was, carrying yet another offering for the god he was trying for years to appease, and finding himself quite literally standing face to face with  _ the god of death _ . Well, he was the god of a few other things as well; Winter, war, anything that was generally cold and deadly.

In the back of his mind, Clint thought that this guy also had to be the god of handsomeness, because there wasn’t a face that was quite as attractive as Death’s, apparently.

Clint couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He was literally just watching this man, who was definitely the god he had been giving offerings to for 15 years, eat a cake that had been left, frosting sticking at the corner of the god’s mouth as he had eaten the last piece of the cake. Clint had to avert his gaze as soon as the god realized he wasn’t alone in his temple.

“Well, I’d say this was awkward if you were someone who didn’t come here every day to leave stuff for me,” the god spoke, his voice having a sort of undertone to it that made him sound like he was more than one person in one entity.

Clint honestly had no idea what to even do, he was shaking due to being addressed by the god. He swallowed and set the offering he had down, slowly backing away and keeping his head down low.

“Hey, wait,” the god spoke again, getting up from the seat that had been built for him in the temple. “You don’t have to leave, I just didn’t expect you to come this late.”

Clint’s eyes widened as he halted completely, still keeping his head down. This was it, he had brought his offering a little later than normal, and the god of death knew it and was here to smite him. He knew he should have woken up earlier, but his bed had been far too comfortable after a night of taking clients off the streets and letting them use his body however they wanted. It was his only source of income, after all, and he couldn’t just stop when he had bills to pay and a brother that hardly came around to say hello anymore because he was just as busy working.

“P-please,” Clint rasped out. “I… I couldn't come earlier. I worked all night!”

“Woah, hey I’m not here to smite your or anything,” the god said, holding up his hands. “I just thought you weren’t going to come today, so I came here.”

“You… you aren’t going to punish me?”

“ _ Punish you? _ Hell no, why would I kill someone who’s been bringing offerings to me every single day for 15 years? You’re safe, trust me.”

Swallowing again, Clint dared to look up at the god, gasping a bit when he got to see that face closer than before. If he weren’t scared shitless in that moment, he might have let himself fantasize about that face. Or any other part of that body that was goddamned perfect in every way, especially the thighs. Clint would certainly have let himself think about those thighs around his face and what they would do to make him as red as a tomato.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t bring something extravagant this time,” Clint apologized, averting his gaze back to the floor. 

“Really, you don’t have to apologize. You’ve given me things that will please me for years, you really don’t have to bring anything flashy to please me.”

“Please, I don’t want to make you upset by not bringing anything. I don’t want to end up like my parents!”

The god knelt down, his steel blue eyes looking curiously at Clint. “Your father was a dickhead, he honestly deserved to go like he did, but your mother unfortunately got caught up in his world. I didn’t want her to die, if that makes you feel better.”

“Not… really… I’ll just leave, I didn’t mean to disturb you— ah!” Clint’s foot slipped on the step of the temple he was perched on, falling back with his arms flailing around.

The god moved quickly, snatching Clint’s arm before the blond could fall back completely, and as a reaction, Clint had desperately grabbed onto whatever was closest to him, which, of course, just happened to be the god’s leg. After his initial shock of falling had gone away, he was almost painfully aware of how his cheek was pressing against the inside of the god’s thigh. His face turned a very bright shade of red, as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“S-sorry…”

“You apologize a lot,” the god said while helping Clint up to his feet. “A trait of someone who has been abused into thinking everything they do is wrong.”

“God, you’re observant,” the blond muttered, hoping the god wouldn’t hear.

“What you’ve gone through in your life hasn’t been fair,” the god continued. He gently led Clint over to the seat he had been sitting in not long before. “You’re still going through some unfair stuff. You’re a peculiar guy, I’ll give you that, but you don’t deserve anything you’ve gone through. Whatever god decided they wanted you to suffer should get their ass kicked.”

“Don’t you know all the gods, though?” Clint asked, looking warily at the seat that had cake crumbs on it.

“If I knew all of them, I’d be caught up in their drama, and let me tell you, god drama isn’t drama you want to get involved with.”

Making a nervous noise, Clint moved away from the god and put his hands out. “I’m sorry, I’m confused as to why you’re actually talking to me and trying to get me to sit in your chair when I’m just a mortal.”

An amused look crossed the god’s face. “At this point we might as well be friends. You bring me gifts and pray to me every day, like I’m the only one who can save you from a horrible death. Other gods are capable of killing, you know. It’s not just me, the god of death, who just looks over the deaths of mortals really instead of chooses when they get to die.”

“You don’t cause people to die?”

“Nope, that would be Life who is in charge of that. They decide when someone dies, I just do the dirty work afterwards.” The god gestured for Clint to come closer. “Come here, I wanna show you something.”

“Uh… I don’t know…” Clint backed up a little more, not wanting to flare up the sudden attraction that he had towards this immortal being that he had no business talking to. 

“It’s something nice, I promise.” Flicking his wrist, the god summoned a portal of sorts, that was like a mirror into a different world. “Come on, it’s something you’ll like.”

Though he was cautious, Clint stepped closer, watching the god and flinching when he smiled until he was standing in front of the portal. What he saw inside made him gasp. 

“W-what? How am I seeing this? How is she…” 

“You recognize your own mother, right?” The god asked, moving a finger to zoom in on the image of Clint’s mother.

“I do… but she looks so young… and happy.”

“I would hope so, she’s free of that monster that was your father, but she’s slowly waiting for you and your brother. She’ll be happy while she waits.”

Clint didn’t know what to say. So many emotions were flying through his head that he felt like he might pass out at some point. Eventually he had to look away, only being able to look at his dead mother for a few minutes before he was overwhelmed with the desire to have her back. Surely the god knew how often he begged to have his mother back, and sure it was nice to see her happy for once, but she was happy in another realm, and Clint wasn’t there with her to enjoy her happiness. Sighing, he sat down heavily next to a bunch of offerings and cradled his head in his hands.

The portal disappeared once the god saw Clint sit down. He had wanted Clint to see that she was away from his father, but that only seemed to upset him more. Not the result the god was going for, so he sat down a few feet from Clint, watching the blond. 

“If I remember correctly, your name is Clint, right?”

Clint looked up, eyes wide. “Yeah...do you have a name? I mean we call you by a name, but is it the name you were given?”

The god shrugged. “I've been called Death, War, Winter, Soldier, several things, but I don’t really have a personal name. I just go by whatever the mortals call me.”

“I don’t like calling you any of those names,” Clint admitted. “I’ve never really liked those names… But it’s hard to think of a proper name for you other than… nevermind…”

“No, I wanna know what you’d call me,” the god said with a smile. “I’m curious.”

The blond flushed red again. “I mean… I could call you a lot of things… but none of them would be… appropriate to call a god.”

“Oh, you’re one of those people. Attracted to a god but don’t wanna be disrespectful.” The god smiled and rested his chin in his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ve had several people come to my temple because they’re attracted to me, or whatever version of me they think I look like.”

“I’ve never come to your temple because of that!” Clint squeaked. “I mean, now that I’ve seen you, you’re pretty attractive, but I don’t mean to disrespect!”

“Trust me, I’m used to this, you’re not being disrespectful at all. In fact, you’re the most respectful person who’s come to this temple, so don’t try to hide your attraction if you have it.”

Clint gave a shy look at the god before looking away. “I… feel really wrong being attracted to you. You’re literally Death.”

“I’m also Winter, and snow is pretty, not scary or ugly. Winter can be dangerous and cold, but it’s also calming and quiet. It listens. People should learn to trust winter, as it can teach them valuable lessons.”

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to flirt with me or not, and it’s weird… but I won’t tell you to stop…” Slightly confused but willing to understand, Clint let himself smile a little.

“So will you tell me what you’d call me, then?” the god inquired.

“Well, calling you godly would be redundant, so… handsome. A little mysterious and intimidating, but… understanding. You’ve known me for at least 15 years, so I guess you really know what’s been going on with me for a while now.”

The god nodded. “Any name in mind other than what could just be a label?”

Clint studied the god’s face, going over names in his head until one stuck that felt right. “Um, well it feels weird to call a god this but… James.”

“James… it can mean a person who takes the place of another person. Usually on purpose but, I suppose that can work. You’ve replaced the stable existence of your parents with myself, which isn’t a bad thing. Many people come to me after someone they cared for has passed. I replace that stable existence for them, if only for a short while until they get past their grief.

“You also could be using me as a new love interest in your life, because you know what I look like now and you definitely called me handsome.”

Clint made a strangled noise as he covered his face with his hands. “I’m sorry! I don’t mean to suddenly be attracted to you! I just… have a wild imagination right now. And you’re not even the god of lust or beauty or anything like that and I just… don’t know how to feel about me being attracted to you…”

“Feel like I should be the god of something else?”

“You’d be the god of thighs, honestly, holy fuck…”

The god, now dubbed James, smirked and shifted his legs so that they were open and putting his thighs on full display. “Well, I can be your god of thighs if you really want me to be. Get a little personal with you if you feel like being risky.”

Clint let out a whine, a noise he honestly didn’t think he could make, but he did, and there he was feeling like a horny teenager with a crush on the new kid in school. James was fully allowing Clint to make a decision of whether or not to get frisky with the god of death. He really felt like the weirdest things always happened to him, and flirting with Death seemed to be just about the weirdest thing.

“I’ve… been intimate with several people,” Clint started.

“I know, I’ve seen your work. I’ve hated watching you let yourself be abused by strangers, but it was your line of work, so I never interfered.”

“Y-you’ve seen me work?! Oh god, you probably think that I won’t care if I do anything with you… Not that I’m saying that I want to do stuff with you! Oh man…” Clint tried to hide as much of his face as possible.

“We don’t have to do anything, you know. Just because I’m a god doesn’t mean that I’m going to demand something from someone.”

“I actually do want to do stuff with you,” the blond said, peeking through his fingers. “But… it seems fast…”

“You agree quickly to clients,” James pointed out.

“I know! I don’t know why this is harder to ask you to just smother me with your thighs!”

James let out a laugh. “I can do that if you want me to. I have no problems doing that.” He got up and walked back over to the chair, sitting in it with legs spread wide apart.

Clint’s hands dropped as James moved, and the blond really wanted to follow and worship the god with his mouth, but he was too embarrassed to admit he was having such thoughts about  _ a literal god _ .So he just sat there, looking longingly at James with a bright red face and a level of arousal that just kept rising.

“Come on, then,” James said, and that was all it took to get Clint scrambling over to the chair. The god chuckled once Clint was on his knees, looking up eagerly with a sparkle in his eyes that just seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Someone is excited,” he commented.

“Sorry, I just haven't been with someone who doesn’t demand anything of me.” Clint bit his lip while looking away for a second. “It’s… more exciting when someone isn’t throwing you around carelessly.”

“I can understand that. Sometimes you just want an intimate touch.” James reached forward to run a hand through Clint’s blond hair. “Just to feel something that’s not complete boredom or a want to get out of the abuse you endure.”

Clint let his eyes slip closed as James touched him in a gentle manner that he hadn’t experienced for years. He almost wanted to cry at the touch, but he kept himself composed leaning towards one of James’s thighs and nuzzling it before looking back up at the god. He didn’t feel a need to respond to what James had said, because he was right, there was no need to acknowledge what was right. Clint really did just want someone who would love him and take care of him, but he always felt like he didn’t deserve that.

But the god of death was making him think otherwise.

James nudged Clint’s face with his thigh, getting a pleased noise from the blond that made him smile. “You wanna worship me properly?”

Clint nodded as he started kissing James’s thighs even though they were still clothed.

Gently, James grabbed the blond’s jaw, moving it away from his thigh before snapping his fingers, clothing instantly being removed from those perfect thighs and giving Clint an open canvas to work with. 

Clint was greedy, instantly leaving a mark on the god with a moan. He couldn’t help but leave kisses on absolutely every inch of godly skin he was given access to. James was going to be covered in Clint’s affection by the time they were finished with… whatever Clint could bring his mind to call what he was doing. If he was committing some type of sin against another god, he could deal with the consequences. He just wanted to soak in the feeling of the moment and not worry about offending any god that disapproved of his actions.

“Easy, there’s plenty of skin to leave your mark on,” James reassured, smiling as he pet the blond’s hair. 

“Can’t help it,” Clint managed to say between kisses.

“Obsessed that much with me, Clint?” The god moved his legs so that his calves pulled Clint closer until the blond was nearly touching his groin. “You won’t mind being a little closer, will you?”

A surprised squawk left Clint’s mouth, but it was quickly replaced by another moan, and then he was back to kissing, working on both thighs until he was satisfied with how covered they were. The marks might fade away quicker than they would on a mortal, but Clint was happy just to make a god know how much he loved worshiping. The blond looked up once more, this time having a more mischievous look than the timid looks from earlier.

“Seems like you fit right in the mortal role of worshiping a god,” James said in a low tone. “I’d love to do more, but someone is approaching the temple, and I’d really hate to get caught by yet another mortal today.”

Standing up, James helped Clint to his feet and dusted him off. In his hand, he manifested a bracelet that had a star charm on it. He gave it to Clint, who was looking caught off guard, and smiled. 

“Keep this. It’s a little bit of myself to keep you tethered to me. Just call my name, and I’ll come.”

“W-wait! Can you come tonight?” Clint asked, suddenly shy again. “So I don’t have to spend the night in someone else’s bed?”

“Anytime you need me, I will come.” James smirked and pulled Clint into a short but heated kiss before disappearing from sight.

Clint stood there in silence for a bit, noticing the crumbs that had been in the seat now gone, any evidence of anything being eaten having been swept away from mortal sight. Everything looked undisturbed, and it made Clint think that maybe he had just been dreaming or hallucinating from exhaustion. However, when he looked down at his wrist, the bracelet that James had given him was there, the star charm giving off a faint red glow. The blond smiled, thinking he wouldn’t have to spend a night in someone else’s arms ever again if he really didn’t want to. 

Clint turned and left the temple, and as he passed by whoever was the next person to leave an offering, he smirked, leaving the new visitor feeling uneasy as he swaggered down the steps.


End file.
